


Hours Past

by Verilidaine



Series: Ghosts [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canonical Character Death, Everyone grieves differently okay, Gen, Inappropriately timed dusty jokes, M/M, Rocket Raccoon/Yondu Udonta - Freeform, Takes place in my HoS universe so past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 13:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: Rocket goes to Kraglin, after, and doesn't know what he's going to say.





	Hours Past

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Infinity War 1 in the same universe as Hour of Separation. You don't need to read that one, just need to know that it was Rocket/Yondu and Yondu still died at the end.

Piloting was automatic.  
  
Good thing, too, because Rocket wasn’t sure he’d be able to do anything that required thought right now.  He accepted the docking coordinates, claws dancing over the console without looking at it.    
  
He still didn’t know what he was going to say.  
  
How was that even possible?    
  
He moved his craft into docking position and fired thrusters until his received the lock confirmation and heard the _whoosh_ of the doors.  He unclipped his belt.  Stared straight ahead.  
  
His craft began beeping at him to switch the engines off, startling him out of his daze.  He powered down and climbed out of the seat.  Remembered to not look down to make sure he didn’t step on anyone.  No one else was there.  
  
Sharp pain in his stomach, the world tilting as he walked.  
  
What was he going to say?  
  
He stepped into the loading bay.  Kraglin was waiting.  He looked tired, but he was smiling.  “Good to have ya back.  What a shitshow, huh?”  He looked past Rocket, waiting for someone else to come out of the craft.    
  
No one was coming.  Rocket’s ears drooped, his claws dug into his arm.    
  
_What was he going to say?_  
  
“...Where’s everyone?”  
  
Say it, just _say it_.  
  
Rocket opened his mouth, but instead of words, a sob came out and his knees buckled. His hands pressed over his eyes.    
  
Why was he crying _now?_  
  
He heard the sharp inhale, and Kraglin made a strange sound. Quiet, stifled.  “Oh, no.”  There was a pause.  “...Everyone?”  
  
Rocket nodded.  
  
“Oh, god.”

* * *

Somehow Kraglin got him into the mess and shoved some kind of warm drink at him.  Rocket curled his fingers around it but didn’t drink.  Kraglin sat down across from him.  
  
“Wha’ happened?”  
  
“We split,” Rocket said, surprised by how steady his voice sounded.  How long had it been since he’d spoken?  Earth?  Probably thanking Thor’s allies for the craft he’d used to get here.  “Me an’ Groot ended up on Earth, tryin’ to save one of the stones.  I guess the others ended up with another human, he’s the one who told us.  Thanos got Gamora.  Everyone else went in the snap.”    
Why couldn’t he feel anything, when he’d been sobbing like a baby not twenty minutes ago?  
  
“Like a nightmare,” Kraglin muttered.  His knuckles were white around his mug.  “Men jus’ meltin’ away...”  He swallowed and shook his head.    
  
Rocket pushed the drink away and lowered his head into his arms.  “Thought nothing could ever hurt worse’n losin’ Groot.  Then Yondu.  An’ maybe I was right, ‘cause I can’t feel anything anymore.”  
  
Kraglin didn’t say anything for a long time.  Rocket was starting to think that it was time for the getting drunk in silence part of his visit--he was sure that was coming--when Kraglin finally spoke.  “Takes a bit.”  
  
Rocket turned his head to look at him with one eye.  He was staring into his mug.  
  
“T’ feel anything,” Kraglin added.  “‘Least it did ... for me.”  
  
Rocket lifted his head.  He was scared to blink.  If he did, he just knew that frozen eyes would be staring back at him in that moment of darkness.  Maybe that was why Kraglin wasn’t blinking either.    
  
“Started with wantin’ t’ tell ‘em stuff,” Kraglin said.  “A gun that Oblo woulda liked.  Somethin’ Tullk woulda thought was funny.  Then it was bein’ sad they was gone and wantin’ t’ talk about it with someone else what was dead.”  He shook his head, briefly, and finally he blinked.  Rocket did too, finding the courage for it in the shared moment.  Kraglin’s gaze shifted and met Rocket’s.  “But for a long time, it’s like there’s nothin’.”  
  
Rocket swallowed and nodded.  
  
Kraglin watched him for a few more moments, then rubbed his face and sighed.  “Got a room for ya, long as ya need,” he said.  He smiled, thin and humorless.  “Suddenly there’s plenty extra.”  
  
Rocket didn’t want to think about that.  
  
“...If ya don’t mind that they’re dusty.”  
  
Rocket’s ears snapped up and he stared at Kraglin, whose smile had turned into a ghost of a smirk.  
  
He couldn’t help it.  He snorted.  “That is sick.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I got trauma issues.  I’m allowed.”  
  
“You gimmie a dusty room and I’ll kick your ass.”  
  
“Sure ya will,” Kraglin said, then motioned towards Rocket’s abandoned cup.  “Drink that.”  
  
“Why, so I can forget my sorrows?”  
  
“No, ‘cause you probably ain’t eaten much.  It’s a supplement, not booze.”  
  
Rocket frowned at him but still pulled the mug back over, giving it a cautious sniff. “Smells like shit.”  
  
Kraglin snorted.  “‘Cause it’s good for ya.  C’mon, drink it, or I’m gonna feel the Cap’n glarin’ at me all night.”  
  
Rocket sighed, staring at the mug, then lapped at it.  His stomach reminded him with a sharp cramp how long it had been since he’d eaten anything and he grimaced.    
  
“Thought so.  Finish it and I’ll find a room that ain’t dusty.”  
  
Rocket huffed and started drinking a little quicker.  It would be nice to just sit and do nothing for a while. “Y’know the worst part?”  
  
“There’s a worst part?”  
  
“Well ... no.  Whole thing’s shit.  Just keep thinkin’ ‘bout Yondu an’ how I couldn’t protect his kid.”  Strange how easy it was to talk to Kraglin.  Like spending months in a death trap together made people feel closer or something.  
  
Kraglin shook his head.  “Cap’n wouldn’t’a blamed ya.  I know that.”  
  
“How?” Rocket whispered.  
  
“Didn’t blame me for the mutiny, did he?  Wouldn’t blame ya for this neither.”  Kraglin scratched the back of his neck. “You caused this even less than I caused the mutiny.”  
  
Rocket tilted his cup up to finish.  The cramps in his stomach were starting to ease.  “Guess so,” he said.  “About that room?”  
  
“Yeah, follow me.”  Kraglin stood and started towards the door, Rocket following.  “Listen, while y’ here...”  
  
“Need something fixed?”  
  
“Kinda lost my mechanic.”  
  
“Yeah.  Just point me at it.  I could use something to do.”  
  
“Thought so.”  
  
They walked in silence for a while, Rocket looking around at Kraglin’s new ship, taking in all the sounds and smells.  It was an older ship, but seemed in good repair and the systems sounded sturdy.  Rocket was almost disappointed that it wasn’t more of a fixer-upper.  He could really use something to do.  
  
“Here we are,” Kraglin finally said, stopping.  “No dust, promise.  No one ever used this one so no ghosts, neither.”  
  
“Thanks,” Rocket said.  He stepped inside and the door closed behind him and he looked around the plain room.  Standard, one bed, one dresser, nothing on the walls.  It would be nice to be without ghosts for a while, he thought, climbing into the bed.  He reached up to his neck, hand searching for someone to curl around.  
  
It was a nice thought, he mused, to be without ghosts, but he doubted they were ever going to leave his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I don't really love this one, but I couldn't get it out of my head. It's written from a personal place; I have a flashbulb memory from when I was little of when my parents arrived at my grandma's house, where I'd been staying while they were in another state for a specialist surgeon for my brother. My grandma greeted them at the door and asked, "Where's Nathan?" and my mom just broke down, which is when we learned. I couldn't help but imagine Rocket going through the same thing. His loss surpasses words.


End file.
